Oh, My Days!

  The Magic Roundabout has been CGI’d! I discovered this when seeking out an image for today’s blog, and am now trying to delete the heinous visions from my sight. THIS is a correct image from the programme I remember from my childhood days. Ermintrude was my favourite character. A glorious pink spotty cow wearing a blue hat, chewing a flower and racing around in a hoo-ha. Dougal the Dog was a close second - I used to make models of him using tubes from loo rolls, wool and empty egg shells. Zebedee got on my nerves. All that boinging.  (The other image I’m trying to eliminate is one which made me gag on my toast and Marmite this morning; a revelation in the news that a prisoner was discovered, after being x-rayed, to have been hiding an iPhone up, and I quote ‘an intimate part of his body.’ Ye gods, what is WRONG with people? An iPhone?? Seriously??? Eurghhhh…) Anyway, back to The Magic Roundabout. It is a metaphor connected to my continuing focus on letting go of things in life that n

 Years ago there was an excellent cartoon on the TV called ‘Dangermouse.’ Do you remember it? I don’t know if it still airs and I don’t want to find out either, because I am fearful that the 21st century powers-that-be may have taken the original cartoon and ‘updated’ it in a horrid computer generated images kind of way. Have you see what they’ve done to ‘The Wombles’, for example? Seriously, if you haven’t, don’t look. It will trash all of your beloved childhood memories and scar you for life.  Anyway, ‘Dangermouse.’ Dangermouse was a mouse (obvs) and he went about his daring-do ways with his trusty companion, Penfold. Penfold was a hamster. Oddly, he was portrayed as being smaller than Dangermouse even though EVERYONE knows that mice are, generally, smaller than hamsters. If the mouse is bigger than the hamster, it is a rat. Fact. Dangermouse was not a rat, or he would have been called Dangerrat, wouldn’t he? Unless pretending to be a mouse when he was actually rat was one of his cun

  I’ve burned all my old diaries. They covered a period of over 14 years, starting early in 2008. They had been sitting in a drawer, staring at me, taking up space, looking lovely in their glamorous covers, challenging me to make a decision about their future. Their destiny had been in my thoughts for a few months. Why was I keeping them? What useful purpose did they serve? They certainly wouldn’t be useful in a Mae West kind of way - ‘Keep a diary and someday it’ll keep you.’ Were they merely pointless clutter?  When I started pondering their fate, my initial reaction was to destroy them. But that’s a Scorpio habit for you - we are often too quick to burn bridges, cut off our noses, and rid ourselves of what we think we no longer need. With age, I have become less inclined to see life in stark terms of black and white, becoming  more open to those shades of grey (no, not THOSE shades of grey…good grief and heaven forfend…) - but that phoenix-like button of destruction is still there,

Happy Autumn Equinox, everyone! And thank you for being patient whilst I had a bit of time to sort out a few wobbly bits ‘n’ bobs. (And no, we aren’t referring to bums, tums and bingo wings here!) Here is the garden this morning - sunny day, bit of an Autumnal chill, heavy dew, cobwebs, sunflowers still going strong as the Wheel of Seasons turns a little further. Give it another month and I’ll be once more on the Great Lear Sweep, but for now the trees continue in their green finery and all is right in my world.  It seems pertinent that I’m back in Blogland as Autumn arrives, on the day when the hours of light and dark are equal, when the Earth is in balance and harmony. I’m feeling balanced and harmonised, too. In calm waters again.Which is nice.  In celebration of today, then, I am making a lovely Autumn lunch feast for me and His Lordship Malarkey. Currently, he is on a trek to an art shop in Shrewsbury to track down some Very Important Art Stuff. This is a good thing. Art means bal

It doesn’t seem right, somehow, to be blogging during this period of national mourning for our late Queen Elizabeth II. It’s my way of showing respect for her life of uncomplaining service and her beloved memory, to step back from the grumping, ranting and whatever else pointless waffle I spout. Just for this time.  Also, the last six weeks have thrown in my path some upsetting, bewildering and unsettling events. But as Queen Elizabeth had her husband, Prince Philip, and her daughter, Princess Ann, as her unconditional emotional support, I have my Andy and my Heather. I am blessed.  I’m okay, really I am. It’s nothing I can’t handle. As this week has shown, change happens and it is unrealistic to believe that everything will always stay the same. But I do need some quiet, unmeasured time to understand and accept the realignments that are happening in my life at the moment. And this time of national change and mourning seems a good time to work out where to go from here. A gift of seren

  I love this photo of the Queen, Her Majesty Elizabeth II. It makes me think that beneath all the ceremony, the pomp, the non-stop life of duty, she was a bit of a gal. Wise, dedicated, true to her honour, giving her life in constant service to her country and its people, yet with a sharp sense of fun and humour. I have much admiration for all she did as our Queen, and I shall miss her enormously. Wishing you love, light and peace, Ma’am, as you travel onwards to your next big adventure.

As part of my ongoing energy healer practise and development, I’ve become interested in using crystals as a healing tool. Well, I say ‘become interested’ like it’s a new thing. It isn’t - I’ve always had a bit of a thing for pieces of the Earth, which is basically what crystals are. I’ve an eye for a pretty pebble, a bit of smooth slate or solid granite. I love a sparkle, hidden colours, magical structures.  I find the feel and sense of them in my hand very comforting, like a part of me recognises them as my true home.  When I was around 8 years old, possibly 9, we had a family holiday in Devon and I found a stone (some sort of terracotta) with my (then) initials imprinted on it. DR. Part of a carving or a brick, maybe, but I decided it was a good luck talisman and kept it. On the same holiday I found the fossil of a sea anemone, and kept that, too. And a couple of years later, I came to possess a piece of amethyst. I don’t think I bought it, so someone must have given it to me. I real